To a Norse Lass from an Irish Lad
(or What's A Norse Girl Like You Doing In A Place Like This)

Your fathers and your brothers have stolen
Many things, (and from my folk more than most)
But this son of the Emerald Isle, in
Meeting you, daughter of the northern hosts,
   Had only lost crops and cattle before...
   Now what was I to do with one less heart?
   I had never seen such a gaze as yours
   And your eyes....well, I'm no bard, but apart
From my home, nothing ever looked so...good!
At the fair, I was lulled by partial peace
And forgot my anger towards those who took
From us, and gave my love to you with ease.
   So northern Lass, this robbed man stands to tell
   I love you not too wisely, but...so, well.